Teach With Tech

In language arts class we were given a narrative prompt that we needed to finish in a short amount of time to prepare us for high school. This is my narrative!

“I can’t wait to leave this dump,” said my best friend, Emma, referring to our school. I honestly think that a million cans of vibrant colored spray paint and a dumpster filled with rotten foods threw up on this place.

“I think ‘dump’ is an understatement,” I replied. “I just hope I get into the new school. I find out today,” I said as I threw my books into my locker and zipped up my pink Jansport backpack.


“I know you will get in, Sky. One B- on your report card won’t deprive you of anything,” she replied.


“Whatever,” I responded rolling my eyes as the bell rang. By now we had already made our way outside of our school and were walking across the street. While our friends were bored in the science classroom, we were going to tour our new school. Only the best students could get in because it can only fit so many people and it is “the next big thing.” The whole “technology based school” thing just reached Florida, so we are the first to try it out here. “I can’t imagine what kind of devices they’ll have,” I said.  When we made our way up to the front of our, soon to be, new school we saw our parents there waiting for us to start the tour. I walked up to my mom and pulled her aside. “So?” I asked excitedly, implying that I wanted her to tell me whether I got in or not. All she did was wink. To me, that meant yes, or at least that’s what I wanted to think so I went and told Emma.

To end the screaming and the “I told you so’s,” the new dean, Mr. Henry, walked out to meet us and said, “Are you guys going to come in, or what?” He seemed like he was in his late twenties. He had brown hair that was slicked up into a spike and was wearing a T-shirt and basketball shorts. “Okay?” I whispered to Emma. I didn’t expect to see our new dean in basketball shorts! What kind of place is this?

I walked into the school only to see fog. Mr. Henry explained that it was a sanitation room so no germs could spread. There goes my excuse for ditching school, I thought. We walked into the area with all of the math rooms. Inside of room 32 was a long row of desks. I heard classical music playing very softly and I smelled pure cleanliness. In the center of the room was a docking station. “I wonder what that’s for,” I said to Emma, with excitement. I did not see one white board, only screens built into the desks. “The robots teach through these iPads-”


“Wait… ROBOTS!?” I asked excitedly.


“Yes, Skylar,” replied Mr. Henry. “What else would you expect from a high tech school that we’ve been working on since before you were born?” He had me there.


“If the TRobots, or teacher robots, draw something on their iPad it automatically is projected onto the wall. The TRobot, will give an equation and they can be checked instantly.”


“I have never been this excited for math!” I exclaimed. “Mhmm,” Emma nodded in agreement, with her eyes wide.

Next, Mr. Henry took us into the science room. Again, I saw a docking station for the TRobot, but this time I saw a slit in the desks. Mr. Henry explained that this was where we would receive our tests. These desks also had built in screens, but these were for online labs. Just then we heard a buzz. “Emma, Skylar, this would be your new teacher,” he said calmly as one of the many TRobots strode into the room.

“Sky,” Emma continued, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” I laughed and stared at the TRobot in amazement. Just then, the TRobot extended it’s arm and fist pumped all of us.
“Wha-ats u-up dud-de-es?” the TRobot asked. I guess Mr. Henry programmed these too!

Just then, my mom pulled me into the bathroom, which was pretty awesome to begin with. It wasn’t so awesome when she told me the bad news. “Don’t get too excited, Skylar,” she said. “One thing that I may have left out is that I don’t exactly know yet if you’ve made it. I’m sorry to put this pressure on you and to get your hopes up, but the letter hasn’t come in yet.” I felt like a Coke can that was just stepped on. I stormed out of the bathroom not even caring anymore about all of the technology. Yes, I would love to go to this school, but the end of the tour just wasn’t as great. Even the 3-D printer that prints your lunch didn’t excite me. I was just anxious and nervous for when I got home. We went into the History classroom where I actually paid attention.

Mr. Henry said, “All of the homework will be given to you through your email, just like when you found out whether you got in or not.” This one sentence made my heart beat ten times faster, my hands shake, and my teeth grit. I put all of the pieces togther and realized how dumb I was. Of course I would find out on email! This was the moment. I excused myself to the bathroom where I checked my phone. I read the email that I was sent which, to be honest, I just skimmed for five words that would change my next couple years: Congratulations, Skylar, You got in! When I went back into the History room to rejoin the tour, all I did was I winked at my mom.


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